You’ve Got the Future of a Ticking Time Bomb, Baby
by supahspark
Summary: cont. of foreveryoungpyro's story on Quizilla. Mia finds herself detached from Draco for the first time at Hogwarts, with a dark future and haunting prophecy in her midst. Can she complete the prophecy and have Draco die, or will she find another way?
1. Snapping Gloves

You've Got the Future of a Ticking Time Bomb, Baby

You've Got the Future of a Ticking Time Bomb, Baby

Authors Note: I'm starting this story as a continuation from another story that ended abruptly as the beginning of what I thought would be a glorious storyline was flashed and hidden. So, (the place where I get my draco fix), this is a continuation of your tale, "Summer Secrets At The Malfoy Manor".

DISCLAIMER : None of the Harry Potter characters, personalities, spells and/or other magical whatnots are mine, they are the work of the fantasmical J.K. Rowling. Any OC's, strange twists in the continuing plot and other realistic occurrences between characters are my doing, however.

3. 2. 1. GO!

Your thoughts had all but completely removed Draco from their midst, all habits to avoid him blending into your regular routine. You would've considered it strange had to you not created the idea yourself; now a habit to take the long hallway haunted by the Bloody Baron instead of the straight shot to your Transfiguration classroom. Harry might like to complain how he couldn't stop and chat things up with his more distant friends, but you would walk this way whether he liked it or not. And like a powerless puppy, he would follow your hastened pace with his own silent one as you jogged to beat the clock for your next class. It was all a safety precaution, you knew what would happen if the boy dared to show his face. The sleek blonde hair was too much for you see nowadays, even if he rarely crossed your mind anymore, you had a feeling the fury and broken heart still lurked inside you somewhere. Besides, he didn't seem to interested in finding you either, probably another slimy girl in his grasp.

And despite the fact that you had done all you could to try and live normally again, there was always that nagging thought that didn't hesitate to remind you that you weren't truly happy these days as you lived from day to day with the Golden Trio watching with worried eyes. Maybe the glances and looks had subsided a little now, but people still watched you with wide eyes as you stormed past, boy's instantly glazed over but a girl's memory was forever. Especially Pansy's, who didn't hesitate to loudly remind everyone in her presence how you had nearly killed someone in your first weeks here, a Slytherin boy no less. You could do nothing but grind your teeth and turn to those that still followed you, the three Gryffindors who smiled honestly and didn't hesitate to comfort you even if you weren't visibly upset. Somehow they knew about the nagging thought in your mind as well, even though you told nobody about the lonely horrorshow that was nighttime. How empty your bed felt without him holding you tight in his broad arms, no you told nobody about the pain. You wanted to pretend it was a clean break even though every part of your body yearned for his touch, his gaze. Yet you found yourself taking the Bloody Baron's hall every time. Somehow, you had started to wonder if things would ever truly returned to the way they had been before, when you could fall into his arms under a plethora of kisses gracing your lips.

"MIA!" a loud voice jerked you out of your daze, your eyes snapped up to a worried Harry's. Immediately your mind filled in the blanks: Quidditch field, Gryffindor practice, Thursday. Grip tightening on your broom, you realized you had been blindly hovering above the left goalpost and the Snitch had been flitting about for the past half hour. Sinking into your thoughts was something you did often lately, not thinking about anything but becoming a hollow shell with, according to Ron, "a bloody horrid expression" on your face, which you could only assume was some of the nagging sadness leaking through. Still, words came slowly as you tried to dismiss your dazed mood.

"I'm fine," you mutter, eyes sinking to your broom. Harry sighed, knowing you were lying but also realizing that nothing he did could fix the matter. Lifting his arm, he glanced at his watch and then at you. "We're late anyway, the others have started packing up already," he said slowly, reaching over with his foot to tip your broom towards the ground in a slow descent. The wind graced your face as you struggled to gain your alertness once more, and as the ground came closer you heard Harry speak up once more. "They're here," he hissed, landing softly next to you and dismounting his broom in one swift movement. From the tone in his voice, it didn't surprise you to see a group of silver and green robes strolling down the grounds to the field. Somehow they had claimed practicing hours just after that of the Gryffindor's, as if practicing in the darkness made them more difficult to destroy in the light. You don't understand the logic yourself, but another thing has caught your attention. Or rather, another some_one_: a platinum blonde boy was leading the pack, broom clutched in his hand and a trunk of Quidditch supplies clutched in the other. Heart sinking, your eyes immediately sink down as you begin to stuff away the Quaffle into it's large center pocket and the wrist guards of all the players in a wide side section on the next layer of the trunk. Harry hasn't moved from his position several meters away, and you could only imagine his expression: eyes narrowed, arms crossing his chest and legs spread as if mocking a Muggle bouncer. Somehow, you assumed, he must've felt more intimidating this way but you could only sigh and look away whenever he assumed the stance. Instead, the wrist guards consumed your attention, counting up the two beaters, three chasers and Harry's gloves before tucking them away into the compartment. Then, as you're strapping off your own Seeker gloves, you feel the pressure of eyes upon your small frame and can't resist looking up. Though, as soon as you do, you wish you hadn't.

Silver and deep green robes have formed a weak circle around you and Harry, who has, undetected, moved to your side as you pulled at the straps of your gloves. A pained expression crossed your face, but not because of the crowd of boys, rather one of the clips had just caught the thin layer of skin on your wrist and a thick bauble of blood was already starting to form. Licking your finger, you placed slight pressure where the clip had bit you and let your eyes travel up to Harry. Someone else was speaking, but you didn't want to look at the icy blue eyes you had fallen for so long ago, and still sent shivers down your spine.

"Potty, I do believe it's our turn on the field," a voice sneered. So, he didn't acknowledge you anymore? Was that how this was going to end? Heart sinking further into your depths, you bite back words and slip off one of your gloves, starting the other one. "Get your trunk and leave," seemed to be the general consensus of the others as they mumble among themselves. It frustrated you, and you threw off your other wrist guard into the trunk before leaping to your feet and slamming it closed. Harry's eyes shot to you instead of shooting daggers at Draco, and he picked up the trunk at the opposite side you were standing. Carefully, you began making your way out of the circle, unfortunately realizing at the last moment that you had to pass the boy you'd been avoiding to reach the storage rooms. Eyes glued to the trimmed grass below, you made to pass him.

A pale hand stopped you, along with a smooth voice you knew all too well. "Potty, you shouldn't make a sweet girl carry your junk. Be a man and do it yourself," the voice teased, and immediately Harry's hand knocked yours off the handle and grabbed it himself. Your eyes became wounded as you looked up at Harry's retreating back, how could he leave you with this….this traitor? Heated eyes flashed on your face as a jerk pulled you away from the rest of the circle by the very person you had been trying to avoid.

"Mia…" his voiced started, and cold fingers tipped your chin up in the same way it used to make your heart melt. Actually, it still did make your heart melt in a pathetic puddle, but you tried desperately to make it not show on your face. You had to let him apologize first, you weren't the one disappearing when you significant other was in desperate trouble. A soft breath drained from your mouth, green eyes traveling to his face with a blank look. His, on the other hand, seemed to reflect the sadness that had been nagging you all along. "I missed you." Immediately, your hands reach up and shove him away, somehow wiggling out of his grasp.

"That's all you can say?!" you cry, and before he could answer, you find yourself sprinting for the castle. You didn't look back but had a feeling he wasn't following you anymore as you pulled dashed through the entryway and through the cold stone walls. A sickening feeling caught you as a green slip tacked to the wall by magic slipped past. I still have to go to the masquerade ball, you remind yourself, thinking of the promise you had made to Hermione.

FINISH.

Read and review, please?

Another chapter will be up after I get some more of my homework done. xD


	2. With The Intent To Kill

Authors Note: I'm starting this story as a continuation from another story that ended abruptly as the beginning of what I thou

Authors Note: Reading the Lord of The Flies has gotten me into a rather dark mood, hasn't it? Summer reading, D': Either way, I hope you enjoy the more fast-paced second chapter of this series. Please review, I enjoy reading what you have to say.

DISCLAIMER: None of the Harry Potter characters, personalities, spells and/or other magical whatnots are mine, they are the work of the fantasmical J.K. Rowling. Any OC's, strange twists in the continuing plot and other realistic occurrences between characters are my doing, however.

3. 2. 1. GO!

Quidditch had always been one of your favorite things since Draco had introduced it to you, but as rain thundered down in front of your hollow eyes, you couldn't help but regretting ever joining the team as the Seeker. Lightning was not far off, along with intimidating thunder that rocked the stands and your bones. Carefully you stepped back, out of the rain's harsh path and under a small waiting deck set up for the Gryffindor players. The others were muddling about, some playing quick games of Exploding Snap or pulling stray strands from their brooms as they waited for the official start of the game. You had denied their request to join the game, rather sinking into your own thoughts again as the image played across your mind again and again.

_""Mia…"_

"_I missed you."_

"_That's all you can say?!"_

Every time you were reminded of the incident, you wanted to throw something, punch the wall or someone, but instead you found no anger in others, only yourself. Why hadn't you listened to what he had to say? Why couldn't you let go of your selfish habits and listen to the boy who was desperately trying to see you again? So many questions raced through your mind, few answers seeming logical. No rumors of a new girlfriend for him had reached your ears, but the ex was usually the last to know. You hated the stinging effect of that word: ex. It lashed at your tongue, you mind for thinking of yourself as "the last girl". Somewhere deep down you wanted things to return to the way they had been before, and as much as you tried, suppressing these thoughts didn't help anymore. He had opened a hatch you had desperately tried to lock when he left, and now you found it difficult to even make the lid budge. No amount of magic could help you find the fake happiness you had been living in before. Biting your lip, your eyes became blank again as you watched the rain splatter down inches from your face. A hand on your shoulder, you twisted around quickly to meet eyes with Harry.

"Mia, goggles," he said softly, handing you a set of brown leather goggles. Your pale fingers wrapped around them, feeling the familiar glow of magic under your grasp. You knew what spell had been placed on it, but Harry spoke it aloud nonetheless. "They'll repel the rain to help you finish this quickly. But," he winced a bit at the thought, "watch out for Bludgers nonetheless. They blend in awfully well with the rain." You manage a weak smile before your ears catch a harsh whistle off in the distance. Goggles strapped quickly to your face, you line up with Harry, who was playing Keeper, and mount your broom. The rain had never looked more threatening to you behind the clear plastic of the goggles, and you could only hope your win would be quick before you found yourself under the icy grip of a cold. Or worse, the flu. Madame Pomfrey had her stock of potions to snap you out of it, but the Infirmary was one of your least favorite places to be. The whistle sounded again, and in the distance you could hear the magically magnified voice of a 7th year you hadn't met before. Still, you pushed off with narrowed eyes and followed Harry high into the air, the cold rain already pelting through your Quidditch robes. You clench your teeth, trying to ignore the frigid air whizzing by as you soar high into the air, circling the stadium once before falling to a slow stop in your spot 50m in front of the goalposts, in front of Harry. That way, he had said during the first practice, you could get a good speed set up instead of trying to go 0 to 60 in a matter of feet. Such logic you admired in Harry, always trying to get ahead in Quidditch. You didn't know when he found the time to be such a laid-back boy with all the pressure for him to be a hero.

The rain didn't disturb your hexed goggles, but your hair was already soaked and plastered to your face, the shining blonde locks now reduced to a muddy brown. It may have been pulled back from your face in a ponytail and slicked down with the bottle of Madame Bloom's styling gel you had found in the bathroom, but nothing could move those bangs from your forehead once the rain had hit them. So, all you could do was block it out, ignore it.

The whistle echoed through the rain, followed by a sudden flashed of lightning that flooded your body with adrenaline. A golden flash, illuminated by the strike, could be seen flitting straight up and veering to the left. Before you know what was happening, the wind was racing past your as your broom spurted forward after the tiny golden sphere. You couldn't see your gloved hands, but you knew your grip on the broom was white-knuckled as you struggled to fight the rain drenching you to the core._ block it out. _You yanked on the broom, following the snitch's sudden spiraling descent, ignoring the slight whizzing behind you that told you another was on your tail. Someone following close behind, following you following the Snitch that jerked up and back out for a ride through the stands. People ducked and screamed as you veered through the faces, desperate to catch the golden ball before sickness set in.

_aim and shut your eyes._

Eyes were narrowed to slits, you desperately blocked out the rain soaking your scarlet robes even though a simple charm could've kept you dry. No such logic existed now, only adrenaline keeping you out of crashing into bodies and after the snitch. Still, that whizzing behind you was growing louder, the body growing closer. You couldn't lose your focus, but the sound was inching upon your thoughts. Your eyes flicked about, spotting both Bludgers off in the distance where the Quaffle roamed. A sigh of relief only turned to a frozen puff of air as you swerved up and away from the crowd to rip through the golden banner wrapping around one of the tall columns lining the field, and dive almost vertical down to the ground. Here the rain was no longer a problem, but avoiding beams was. You twisted, ducked, spun after the small golden speck on it's joyride.

_don't break._

The sound grew louder, than suddenly cut off. Someone was screaming, but your mouth was glued shut. You couldn't look back, had to keep your eyes on the snitch that soared up ahead, easily maneuvering through the beams.

"MIA!" Your name echoed through the barriers, but it had to be a distraction. There was only one person who could scream your name quiet that way, whose touch would send shivers down your spine.

touch?

Out of the corner of your eye you can see a dark figure racing alongside you, eyes also narrowed up ahead on the prize. Your heart sank as you realized which team you were playing: Slytherin. The golden hair was unmistakable even as it was slicked back from the rain, some loose pieces flying back. Somehow he could sense your gaze on him, and as you ripped up through the canvas, he didn't hesitate to follow right behind you. The rain hitting full force, he slid back to your side and despite the fact that you knew he was the Seeker as well, you couldn't help feeling his attention wasn't completely on the small golden orb slowly growing closer. And, as his lips parted, you realized you were right.

"We need to talk!" he bellowed, but you didn't acknowledge him. Quidditch was something you couldn't take your eyes off of, something where other players would try to mess you up but you had to block it all out. Fierce rain pelting your skin, you lean closer to the broom to gain a little on the boy still pressed against your side. "Look Mia!" he tried to get your attention again, no reaching for you but still letting the crowd think that nothing more was going on than the epic quest for the golden snitch. The goggles pressed into your skin, your cheeks glowing a fierce red from the combination of the wind and rain attacking your face. Still, your lips didn't part; your body didn't twist around to look at him. You could only assume the whizzing noise you heard was him, nothing more. The Snitch tore up into the clouds towards the rain, and despite all the lightning and thunder crackling with the intent to kill, you followed at top speed. Draco twisted upward as well, still on your side but a foot between your flailing robes and his. It seemed like the rest of the word didn't exist as soon as your eyes had found the snitch, but for a moment you could hear the roar of the crowd from below, signaling a point for one team. You didn't twist to look, but the Snitch did, suddenly plummeting down. Your stomach protest the hairpin turn you made, facing down vertical now instead of upwards, and you weren't quite sure yourself where this maniacal intent to catch the orb was coming from either. Still, the silver-haired boy followed you, his broom a fair distance apart as you both spiraled down towards the sphere, towards the ground coming up alarmingly fast. Somehow, through all this, Draco still found he courage to speak.

"MIA! I'M SORRY!" he screamed over the thunder, but you only kept pushing on, trying to quell the feelings now spiraling in your heart. You couldn't get distracted, couldn't let the world creep in on your thoughts. A loud crack signaled not another slash of lightning but rather the sound of a Beater's bat swinging at the fierce ball. Your body kept spinning, the ground 50m below and zooming in, the distance between you and ball closing as you yearned to feel the golden material between his fingers.

Suddenly, a weight slammed into your side, knocking the breath out of you and all concentration was thrown to the wind. The grip on your broom was gone, both you and it were freefalling to the ground 40 feet below. You could've sworn the cracking of a rib had echoed inside you, but you weren't sure of anything now. Darkness began closing in, the clouds and rain spiraling out of focus as your body twisted through the air, buffeted by the wind off to the goalposts.

And with a sickening _thunk,_ you slammed into the muddy ground below the goalposts, vision black and consciousness fading. At least you had protected Draco.

FINISH

Tadaah! Another chapter up. It's going faster now, of course, but in a couple of days school starts and who knows what will happen then. Please review!


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